


When Good Cons Go Bad

by lady_ataralasse



Series: All You Had to Do Was Ask [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blow Job, Bondage, Cocky Dean, Cunnilingus, Dean gets hit with a sleep spell, Dean is a pain slut, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, Hair Pulling, Henry Winchester's Knock out spell is used, Innuendo, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Mild Submission, More Sex, Nicknames, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Safewords, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spanking, Sub Dean, Switch Dean, Switching, Top Dean, Voyeur Dean, Voyeur Sam, Voyeurism, apology smut, crop, crotchless panties, dean is called a good little soldier, dom!Dean, dom!reader, he can get out of any restraints, mild Dom!Reader, mild dom!dean, mild subserviance, nothing sexy happens while he's asleep, reader is called mistress, ruined orgasm, sub Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ataralasse/pseuds/lady_ataralasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean have been together for about a year, living in the bunker. Things are good, but every now and then he does things that just piss you off to know end . . . sometimes it seems like he's doing them intentionally. Is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spectaculacularsammy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/gifts).



> Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Spectaculacular-Sammy for being my sounding board and beta. Her writing is awesome and you should definitely check it out : http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy

"Dean!" Your furious voice echoes down the bunker hallways. "Dean, what the hell happened to my favorite sweater?!" You storm through the library, hunting for him. You find him in the kitchen with Sam, eating breakfast.

Dean offers you a mug of coffee that's meant to be pacifying. "You bellowed?"

Sam glances at your face and takes his mug of coffee in hand -and out of range- in case objects start to fly. "Did he shrink it?" Sam offers, trying hard not to laugh. He's caught versions of this fight before on what he likes to think of as the reality soap opera that is his life.

Dean glares at Sam for bringing it up. "That was _one time_."

You shove three fingers in front of his face. "Three times! _Three times_ , Dean!"

Dean brushes your fingers to the side. "I replaced the things I shrank all three times!" _I think._

"So, is that what happened?" Sam prods.

"No!" Dean snaps. "I don't know . . . _maybe_."

You silence Dean with your hand. "It's not _here_! He lost my favorite sweater! For all I know, he shrank it too! He lost it when we stopped at the Laundromat on our last hunt. It's not even like he lost it in the Laundromat here in town where I have a hope of seeing it again! No; he left it in some town _three states_ over that we can't go back to because we had to burn their tulpa-haunted historical landmark to the ground!"

"But on the plus side, that Revolutionary War hero is no longer riding through town, beheading people." Dean points out, bravely.

Sam watches in amusement as your voice gets higher and higher in pitch as your fury rolls over Dean, noting how his brother is beginning to look appropriately hangdog about it.

"I don't know why I even thought I could trust you with laundry duty . . . but we agreed it was fair to take turns! Dean, I swear I could just  . . . Arr-ugh!!!"

~

You storm out of the kitchen, snagging a couple granola bars and a liter of water on the way out and head for the range.

Dean gives you about an hour to cool off before he goes to find you. He brings you a breakfast sandwich and coffee. "I brought you some breakfast, princess."

You know when he enters the range, the scent of his deodorant gives him away, and the tantalizing scent of breakfast in a bag. You resist the urge to turn and take the food from him.

"Bringing me leftovers is not an apology."

"It's not leftovers." Dean huffs indignantly. "I went out and got this for you, so I could apologize properly."

You still don't look at him, just fire off another few rounds. "And you thought that apologizing to me _here_ , while I have a loaded weapon in my hands was your best play?"

Dean leans on the wall just to your left, setting the food in front of him on the ledge.

"Come on, sweetheart . . . you're not gonna shoot me." He grins cockily, dragging out every syllable. "I'm so much more _useful_ to you in one piece."

You snort. "Not lately, and you don't even have a real peace offering."

Dean swaggers closer, "I have a _piece_ to offer, if that's what you're after." He moves close enough that you can feel his body heat against your side, his breath at your ear..

You know his lips are a whisper away from your skin. A part of you instinctively wants to lean into him. Instead, you square your shoulders and empty the rest of the of the clip into the target. "That's not getting my sweater back, dick-for-brains." You load a fresh clip, pull back the slide, and cock a bullet into the chamber. "Not interested, now _scram_."

Dean backs off, hands in the air in a sign of peace, giving you _his version_ of puppy eyes. You don't see them of course, but by now, you can _feel_ when he uses them.

~

After you finish shredding your target, you leave the mess in the range. You head to the gym and tell Sam along the way that Dean will be cleaning up the range after you. Sam just nods in acquiescence and keeps working.

Once in the gym, you put on Linkin' Park. _Hit the Floor_ starts blaring from the speakers of the stereo on one end of the room. You and Dean installed speakers in every corner of the room a little while ago, and it is _exactly_ what you want: being surrounded by music as dark as your mood. You start taking your anger out on the body bag, letting your irritation take on a life of its own, muttering to yourself.

 _Who does that big jerk think he is! He's such an ass! Thinking he can just swagger in and seduce me with zero effort when he hasn't even really apologized. That oaf is lucky he can find his dick . . . I can't believe he left my sweater in the Laundromat! It's like he can't do the simplest thing . . . all he's good for is fucking and fighting . . . I could just strangle him!_ Somewhere in your mind you know you're being unreasonably upset about this, but this isn't the first time, and you just can't seem to let it go. _Fuck, am I PMS-ing? Quick. Period math. Nope. Dean's just pissing me off_ . . . _This is why we can't have nice things! Because Dean will lose them or break them! He would lose his mind if Sam or I ever lost one of his precious cassettes or one of his band t-shirts . . . That's it! I should take one of his band t-shirts and sew it onto a long sleeved shirt and open up the neckline with scissors . . . see how he likes it . . ._

The unmistakable strains of AC/DC start to play through the room, interrupting your thoughts. _♪She was a fast machine she kept her motor clean; she was the best damn woman that I ever seen . . .♪_

Dean knows that AC/DC is one of the best ways to shake you out of a bad mood like this.

You hear the door close and catch the swinging sandbag before turning. "You have bigger balls than I remember."

" _Clearly_ , that's just a sign that you need to spend more time with them."

You look at him, in a vintage band t-shirt and sweats, feet bare, hands empty. "Dean, you don't even have a peace offering with you, and I'm still pretty pissed at this point. Any ideas I have for your balls suggest that you should be wearing a cup."

Dean starts moving swaggering closer to you, moving into range. "I had a feeling you might still be pissed so, here is my solution: right now, I'm gonna let you take out all that anger on _me,_ here on the mat, and when you're done with me, I'm gonna make you one of your favorite meals while you go internet shopping for a new sweater on _my_ card."

You roll your eyes, scoffing. "It's not a card you actually _pay for_ , Dean."

Dean could retort with some comment about your missing sweater being one you bought on a fake card of your own, but he's _not_ an idiot, no matter what you think at the moment. "How about two sweaters, just in case I screw up again?"

"Good idea. You probably will." You snarl.

Dean just smiles, moving closer. "I know, baby. I'm just a big, dumb guy who lost your favorite sweater. How about you come kick my ass?"

Your hands come off the sand bag as you slowly start to square off.

He beacons with both his hands, daring you. "Come on, sugar . . . You know you want to . . .You'll feel _so much_ better."

Dean watches your eyes. He's not sure you're buying his plan. He may have miscalculated the timing. Maybe he should have come sooner, or waited longer. He is genuinely a caught a little off guard, when your leg whips out, curling behind his and then dropping your entire weight behind it to knock him to the floor with you on top of him. Dean forces himself not to fight back and roll you under him . . . yet. He lets you take a minute to grin down on him in cocky triumph. Then Dean squirms just enough to make sure you are _fully_ _aware_ of him underneath you, between your legs, hard and _ready_. He sees your eyes go a little softer and moves to roll you onto your back.

You sense the move coming and keep rolling, out of his grip and away from him and get back on your feet. You and Dean start dancing around each other. You take a swing at him every few steps, not really trying to hurt him, just making contact. You land a few hits on his chest with your fists and a couple kicks to the ribs and his thighs, but they're more like light slaps. Dean starts sweating lightly and _that's_ when you start to lose focus. It's that first trickle of perspiration trailing from his temples down his face that does you in. it leads your gaze to his light stubble, and you can't help but think how good it would feel scratching over you every which way.

You start advancing, maneuvering him into a padded wall, shoving at his chest angrily. Dean takes the hits you land on his chest and ignores them, noticing the way they leave plenty of room for him to lean his face forward without getting hit. He buries his face into your chest, rubbing and scratching and kissing and nipping, moaning.

Then you leap up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You know he'll catch you. You also know that it's not a tactical move the way you're doing it, at least not in combat, but you're tactics are less about _kicking_ his ass and more about _riding_ _it_ at this point. Your tactics are right on-point with your objectives.

Dean's arms come up to cup your ass and pull you to him. He feels your legs tighten around his waist, your breath roughen, your hands, still balled into fists, wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. "I'm so sorry about your sweater, baby. I'm a bad, rude man. Let me make it up to you."

You lean into his neck, breathing in his scent of sweat and _Old Spice_ and leather until he tilts his neck to the side. You bite the skin just under his ear and growl. " _Who's_ paying for my new sweaters?"

"Stanford Blatch." Dean groans hoarsely.

You chuckle. "He does have excellent taste."

"Not as excellent as me." Dean took a long lick over your skin from your sternum to your throat. "You taste _excellent,_ and I chose _you_."

Your hand moves up to fist in his hair and force him to look at you. " _Who_ chose whom, asshole?" You snarl.

Dean grins before fixing his face into a show of submissive apology. " _You,_ baby. I'm just a big dumb animal that loses and destroys your things. I'm so lucky you found me and decided I was worth all the trouble that I put you through."

You pull him closer into a kiss that's all lips and teeth before scraping his bottom lip with your incisors. "Damn straight."

You both know that the only one of you that might ever actually believe what Dean's saying is Dean and right now, he's just playing, not hating himself. If he was hating himself, you'd never be able to be angry at him. That should have actually been a clue for you, but it wasn't. If Dean had really lost something important of yours, he would be trying to get it back or worse.

You let go of his hair and Dean moves back in for another kiss on _his terms_. You pull back, smiling in challenge, so Dean changes tactics and moves lower to suck at as much of your breasts that he can reach without your shirt getting in the way.

You buck against him, forcing Dean to back up into the wall, which gives you enough leverage to balance more fully on his hips with your thighs. You lean back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, and Dean tugs yours down along with your bra, enough to have access to your breasts.

"Not so worried about me ruining your clothes right now, huh?"

"There are better things that mouth of yours could be doing than sassing me about my gym clothes."

"Yes, ma'am." Dean grins before getting a mouthful of breast and groaning.

You clutch his head closer for a moment, and then shove his sweatpants down enough for his cock to bounce free.

Dean pulls back when you start shoving off his clothes. "You want my piece after all, Darlin'?"

"You said I should take out my anger on you. I'm taking it out. Problem?"

"No, ma'am. Whatever I can do to be of service, Princess."

Then you push your yoga pants down enough to work him inside you. When you have Dean fully buried inside you, you both groan loud enough that it's probably audible in the hallway outside the gym. You brace yourself against the wall behind him to give you more leverage for rocking up and down over his hips. Dean uses his arms to help you until the awkward tension of your pants against his cock gets to be enough of a distraction that he decides on another position.

Cupping your head and back while he turns you around, Dean lowers you both to the mat. Then he pulls out of you to your mutual frustration and helps you strip off your pants and sneakers entirely. The second the offending clothing is out of the way, you roll him onto his back, strip off his pants the rest of the way and sink back onto his rigid length, grinding yourself into him. He fills his hands with your breasts while you ride him mercilessly, chasing your own pleasure, and Dean is enjoying the hell out of being used and used well.

Your cries get louder as you get closer, and after all that anger and rolling around, you're not far from your first release. You have plans for Dean's atonement after this, but right now, you need to take the pressure off. The feeling of frustration boils into hunger until you are bouncing so _hard_ on Dean's lap, you're a little worried you might knock the wind out of him if you land wrong.

That's the last clear thought you have. Dean takes one hand off your breasts and pushes it between your legs none too gently to rub. His mouth nips one hardened nipple and then sucks on it wetly. A few rubs of his rough knuckles against your clit and you are screaming over him, letting out all the feelings that have been roiling inside you all morning. Dean moves his hands, molding you over him while he thrusts into your clenching heat few more times before releasing into you.

Neither of you hears the muffled groan outside the door, or the quiet retreat of footsteps while your blood and breath still thunders in your ears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find your sweater and apologize to Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Spectaculacular-Sammy for being my sounding board and beta. Her writing is awesome and you should definitely check it out : http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy

 

 

After a satisfactory amount of post-coital cuddling, you put your clothes back on and pat Dean's thigh where he's still lying happily on the mat. "Your apology is off to a decent start. I'm going to grab clean clothes and a shower."

"I'll have dinner ready when you come out." He grins, still a little dazed.

You go through your pile of clean laundry that you still need to put away and towards the bottom, inside a sweatshirt, you find your favorite sweater . . . the one Dean _lost_. "Oh fuck."

You debate with yourself. If you tell him now, he won't make that dinner he promised, but you _had_ to tell him before you bought more sweaters. That sticky guilty feeling starts to form in your chest. You decide to hide the sweater for now and take a shower.

On your way to the shower, you run into Dean.

"Hey baby, I was just gonna make us that special meal I promised. Burgers, OK?"

You force a smile. "Yeah, burgers sound great."

"You're still mad, huh?"

"Um . . . actually."

Dean presses a finger to your lips. "It's OK. I understand. I can't just expect you to forgive me after a roll on the mats. I screwed up. I betrayed your trust-"

"Actually, Dean-"

"It's fine. It looks like you're on your way to shower, you want me to delay dinner? Help you wash your back?" He waggles his eyebrows in a way that suddenly seems cuter than it did an hour ago.

You take in a deep breath. "Actually, that would be great, but first there's something I need to show you."

Dean makes affirmative grunts of innuendo, but you shake your head and have him follow you back to your room.

"Look, first I just want to say, I'm sorry about this morning, Dean. I was being a real bitch. I completely over-reacted."

"It's fine. I get it. We have almost no possessions in the life that aren't weapons. We tend to get attached to the few things we save."

"About that." You turn away and open your drawer, pulling out the sweater, and hold it up. "Um, I was putting away my clothes a few minutes ago, and I found-"

"Is that your favorite sweater?" Dean interrupts, frowning.

You look away from his eyes, sheepishly. "Um, yeah. I'm not sure how I missed it earlier. I swear I looked through the pile like four times before I came after you-"

"Like a banshee on the warpath." Dean finishes. "You had it the _whole time_?! This whole time I was beating myself up and trying to make it up to you . . . and I didn't lose the sweater after all?!"

"Um, yes?" You shrink back, knowing you deserve all the yelling. "I'm so sorry, Dean."

"All that crap about not being able to trust me with such a simple task . . ." Dean turns away from you, his voice getting angrier. "I'm going to go make that dinner, and you can wash your own back. If I'm feeling generous, I _might_ make enough food for you."

Dean slams your door and heads down the hall before you can stop him.

He's right. You feel terrible. _Why do I let myself get so worked up about such stupid shit? And how could I go after him like that without being sure. I should have given it a few days first, to make sure it was missing . . . Crap._

_~_

_ _

You take your shower and change into something suitable for apologizing. Then you head down to dinner in your bathrobe to hide the rest of your attire.

You bump into Sam on the way and your robe opens up, giving Sam an unnecessary, but obvious preview of what you have planned for Dean.

"Wow, um, great choice." Sam blushes. "Dean's in the kitchen. I'll go make myself scarce."

"Thanks Sam."

"Ah, ____?"

"Yeah?"

"Leave the robe open when you go to eat. He won't be able to resist."

You untie the robe again, giving Sam a teasing flash of satin and skin. "You are."

Sam blushes again, but doesn't take his eyes off of you. "Barely. That's the other reason I'm walking to the other side of the bunker."

You laugh as you head back down the hall, but wonder a little if Sam is joking.

~

You find Dean sitting in the kitchen, just like Sam said, eating a burger and drinking a beer.

"Hey big guy, any food for me?"

Dean grunts and jerks his head towards the stove where another plate is made up for you.

"Thank you, Dean."

Another grunt.

"Can I get you another beer?"

"Fine."

It's a word. That's progress. You get him his beer and start eating. You let the robe fall open a little while you eat, wanting to give Dean a preview, but not wanting to get burger on your nightie. You tell him how amazing his cooking is and enjoy the meal as much as you can while you strategize exactly how to get Dean to forgive you.

When you finish eating, you get up and start taking inventory in the kitchen. Then you busy yourself getting out the supplies you need, preheating the oven.

Dean watches you, curious, excited. "What are you doing?"

You smile at him. "Making you a little something to tell you how sorry I am. Why don't you take your beer into your room and pick out a movie to help you unwind? I'll come join you shortly."

 Dean makes a show of grumbling, but you can see the corners of him mouth start to curl towards his eyes.

~

You take the time to make him an apple pie from scratch, and when it's still hot from the oven, bring him a generous slice with some vanilla ice cream and a cup of coffee.

Dean has been spending the last hour, eagerly waiting for your arrival, in his room, on his couch, watching the TV mounted on the wall over his bed. He put in _James Bond: Skyfall_. You come in right around the time James runs into Moneypenny in Shanghai. Dean forces himself to play it cool, but his heart is hammering in anticipation. He can smell your offering. When you put it on the end table he has near the couch where his long-finished beer sits, Dean's mouth waters.

"You really went all out."

"I am _very sorry_ , baby."

"What's under the bathrobe, princess?"

"Something to show you how much I appreciate you."

"Well then," Dean sits back on the couch, making room for you, "By all means, show me."

You smile and shrug out of the robe, then turn slowly, letting Dean take a minute to appreciate your satin and lace slip with matching silk stockings and garters.

Dean doesn't disappoint, groaning and rubbing his jaw and then adjusting his pants. "Well, damn. That's quite a show of appreciation."

"I'm just getting started." You tilt your head to the screen where Moneypenny is about to give James a close shave. "Seems like she's got the right idea." You pick up the pie and fork in your hands and step over to straddle Dean's lap. His hands automatically slide up your thighs to cup your ass in both hands. You wiggle a little in his lap to please you both and then take the fork and feed him a bite of pie.

Dean moans obscenely around the fork.

You feed him another bite and rock against him as he slowly chews and swallows, vibrating with sounds of pleasure.

"You like that? Huh, Dean?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"How about you have another bite while I help you get more relaxed?"

Dean nods, wondering what you're up to. You twisted on his lap, pulling more sounds from him and put the plate down on the table. You take a forkful and feed it to him before putting the fork on the plate and helping him out of his flannel shirt while Dean savors his bite. Then you feed him another forkful and take off his belt, then his boots. You feed him another bite and rub one of his stocking feet. Then another bite and you rubbed his other foot. The pie is half gone when you put the plate into Dean's hands.

"Here, baby. Why don't _you_ finish this _pie_ and watch your movie while _I_ finish appreciating _you_?"

Dean takes the pie, but keeps his eyes on you. Your eyes flick up to his and pause your movements. He takes a bite of pie, and you settle between his legs, your discarded robe bunched under your knees. Dean has another bite, but his eyes never leave you, especially when you run your hands up his calves and over his thighs, rubbing and spreading his legs, making plenty of space for yourself. Dean nearly drools when you lean forward and start unzipping his jeans. He forgets to chew while he stares down your slip and enjoys the feel of your fingers moving over the denim. He takes a _hard_ _swallow_ of pie when you carefully spread the fly and work his jeans down his hips just a little.

You want to leave his pants mostly on, adding to the dirty thrill of sucking him off while he's mostly dressed and pretending not to care that you're about to suck his brains out through his dick. You slide your hands under his t-shirt to warm on his belly, tracing his abs, dragging out the moment. When you slide your hands into his jeans at last to pull his cock out, Dean is more than a little desperate and so hard that he's starting to poke out of his open jeans on his own. You enjoy a few languid pumps along his shaft, running your thumb over the head, savoring the warm, velvety hardness, your own mouth starting to water.

You keep your fingers wrapped around him, your mouth poised just above the tip, looking up at his face until Dean - eyes still locked on you - takes another bite of pie, and when the filling disappears into his mouth, Dean's cock disappears into yours.

Dean's senses are drowning in warm apple cinnamon and the feeling of your lips and tongue over his cock. While you lick and suck at him, your hands pumping over his length, Dean continues to eat the pie and moan. When the pie is gone, Dean's nearly there himself. He puts the plate down, and his hands come forward, one of them rubbing down your back, enjoying the feel of satin and lace over skin and the other one strokes your hair while you bob your head up and down between his legs. Feeling Dean's fingers startling to clench involuntarily, you move your head faster, tightening your fingers while you continue to pump his saliva-slick length until Dean is spilling into your mouth.

You clean him up with soft, slow licks and then curl up on the couch with him, resting your cheek over his softening cock to keep it warm with your body and breath. Dean melts into his couch, slack-jawed, but smiling. He strokes your head on his lap with one hand, looking down at the picture you make and chuckling smugly to himself periodically. When he can feel his arm is attached to his body again, he reaches for the coffee mug and drinks it, enjoying the feeling of deep satisfaction.

As the movie continues, you're not sure if it's the excitement of the movie or the feel of your mouth near his cock -you hope it's more the latter - but Dean's _interest_ in further proceedings begins to harden against your cheek. When the credits start to roll, Dean puts the mug down and turns off the movie.

Dean rubs your back gently. "Can you get up, sweetheart? I'd like to take a closer look at that outfit you've got on."

You give Dean an eager smile. You're soaked through after giving Dean his blow job and hoping for some more _mutual appreciation_. You stand, letting Dean get a long leering, look at you.

Dean cocks his head as he studies you, considering.  "I want you to sit on the edge of the bed, Darlin' and spread your legs for me."

You watch while he shucks off his pants and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Then he kneels naked between your legs, his hands running up your thighs, hungrily. His fingers wrap around your hips while his thumbs move to stroke your panties, only to find . . . "Oh darlin' . . . crotchless panties . . . my favorite."

You smirk at him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

Dean slides two fingers into you easily between the finished edges of fabric while you groan loudly and then adds a third. "And then some. Let me show you how _forgiven_ you are."

"Forgive me right into the mattress, why don't you?" You beg breathlessly.

Dean lines himself up carefully and starts to drive himself into you. "Don't mind if I do."

His hands settle on the garter belt under your slip, and he enjoys the feel of pushing up your slip while he slides in and out of you. It makes things feel dirtier somehow. The panties rub over your clit _perfectly_ while Dean thrusts into you, lubed just enough with your slick to keep you from getting a friction burn. Your hands alternate running up and down his arms and stroking over your breasts through the satin. He licks his lips, enjoying the show you're putting on for him while you pleasure yourself at the same time.

You pull the fabric down just enough to reveal your left nipple and raise an eyebrow offering it to Dean. He leans down and sucks on the puckered flesh greedily, making you arch into the sensation. Dean moves one hand down to wrap around your back and pull your breast closer to his mouth while he keeps pumping his hips. When Dean uses his nose to get to your right breast, something shifts just right in the angle of everything, and you feel your orgasm move over you like lightening in a bottle. The sudden slick clench around his cock sends Dean over the edge too, and he just grinds his hips into you while he finishes coming.

Dean helps you release the garters before dragging you under the covers with him, making happy, male grunts of satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone catch the “subtly” building side plot?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning smut then Dean gets caught in his own con.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/ Spoiler if you have not read CH 1 & 2: Sam has been an incidental voyeur. It’s a small bunker and he’s got a thing for reader. If that idea sends you into a panic please read the PSA below. No one is getting their hearts broken, I assure you. Sam will be watching in the next chapter as well and it will be mentioned, but Sam is really not in this fic much.
> 
> There will be a sequel posting after this arc finishes up when Sam joins in gradually. If you’re not a fan, you can stop reading after this arc ends. Also, CH4 is gonna be me wading into BDSM. Dean only readers may want to exit after Ch 5 reassured that Dean will not be left hurt or alone. If you read the tags, you will understand why. If you do not read the tags . . . Sorry. I tried.
> 
> Dean readers please see this [http://ladyataralasse.tumblr.com/post/142183422549/psa-to-my-readers-love-you-all-re-when-good-cons](url)  
> Hell, If you want a hint of where things are going even if you’re not a Dean only reader or you want a good chuckle, read it.   
> Otherwise, hang tight. I have so much more fun planned. ;)
> 
> Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Spectaculacular-Sammy for being my sounding board and beta. Her writing is awesome and you should definitely check it out : [http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy](url)

**CHAPTER 3**

 The next morning, when Dean wakes up to you - still wrapped in satin and lace - he's so pleased with himself, he can hardly contain it. He wakes you up, coming on his tongue.

You wake-up while he's still thrusting his tongue into your crotchless panties, while you squirm and keen. You roll over a little when he's done, looking back at him and trying to get up to return the favor, but your legs are rubber. You slump forward with your ass still in the air, arms still limp at your sides. You start to laugh at yourself, but when you look at Dean, he's just gone slack-jawed staring at you. At this angle, all he can notice is the way your pussy, glistening with _his_ saliva and _your_ come is practically on display for him.

You put together what has him so transfixed and wiggle your hips as much as you can. "Come on, Cowboy: mount up. Just give me a couple pillows to hold onto."

Dean nods - blood rushing past his ears too fast for him to form a response - and helps you drape your body over the pillows on his bed, enjoying that you're still boneless from the last time he made you come. He kneels perpendicular to you and pumps his length a few times while you turn your head to the side to watch him, licking your lips, eyeing his cock.

Dean angles closer to your lips. "Want a taste, baby?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Let me get it _wet_ for you."

Dean squeezes the base. "You are _killin'_ me, baby, just _killin'_ me."

You grin up at him as he feeds you his cock, teasing him a little as you get it as slick as you can. Dean uses that time to reach around and pump a couple fingers in and out of you until he can't take the combined tease of your mouth and the feel of you around his fingers.

Dean pulls his cock away from your mouth and his fingers out of your pussy. "That's perfect, baby." He lines himself up behind you and starts to slide into you. When he's fully seated, he just groans, his hands on your hips, rubbing against your ass, savoring.

"I'm not gonna last, baby. Making to you come first thing and then your mouth . . ."

"Keep talking like that Dean, and I'm not gonna last either."

"Yeah, baby? You like it when I tell you how hot it gets me, waking up to you still in that sex and lace outfit?"

"Satin." You teasingly correct him.

"Uh huh." He punctuates with a couple thrusts. "How about the way I can barely decide which I like better . . . feeling you suck on my dick . . . or watching it happen. The look of those pretty lips stretched around my cock, seeing you greedy for it, the way you want to suck it down until I'm dry . . ."

"De-an." You whine.

"How about the way I know that if I put my fingers in your mouth right now, you'd suck on them like they had a direct line to my cock, and I know I'd feel you get wetter because you get so turned on sucking me off?"

"Please Dean . . . Please." You're so strung out you don't have the energy to do more than beg.

"Please what, Princess?" Dean teases, thrusting into you hard and then withdrawing leisurely then pushing back in even slower. "Please fuck myself stupid into your tight, pretty pussy? Please bury myself inside you so deep, you can taste me?"

You swear your mind starts to white out as you start to babble mindlessly. "De-ean . . . Please harder . . . Now . . . Please . . . I _need it_ . . ."

"Not so feisty _now_ are you? I do believe I've fucked the sass right out of you." Dean gives you a few sharp thrusts in a row. It's not enough to make you come, but enough to motivate you to do something.

You summon enough energy to reach back and slap his ass the next time he's balls-deep into you. "Dammit, Dean, giddy the fuck up!"

Dean's hips snap into you in surprise, then he chuckles. "Maybe not."

You drop your head and groan in frustration. "You have about thirty seconds, or I'm getting a new rider."

Dean rubs your ass soothingly. "Easy, there, Darlin' I got you. Here we go."

You start to let out a sigh of relief when Dean gets a better grip on your hips and starts to move into you faster. He starts rolling his hips just a little on each thrust so it makes you think of an old-fashioned steam train starting to pour on the speed.

He gradually moves faster and faster, starting to slam against your ass while you keen louder and louder. He knows exactly what he's doing and starts hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, giving you tiny peak after tiny peak, even as you feel a bigger release building.

Dean repositions his knees for better leverage and leans into your ear, whispering, "Let 'er buck." He takes one hand off your hips to rub circles over your clit, and as your cries get higher in pitch, he shifts his other hand up to roughly rub over one of your nipples, drawing your orgasm out of you. As soon as he feels you buck and squeeze around him, Dean's rhythm becomes more uneven as he starts to come with you. His grinding thrusts slow back down as he empties himself into you, extending the pleasure for both of you.

Then he collapses beside you, pulling you down off the pillows - where you've melted - to spoon you and let you both catch your breath. As you drift into a comfortable afterglow, you could swear you hear a faint moan coming from down the hall. You rationalize that it's probably just your memory of Dean's orgasm  . . . or something Sam has on his TV as let yourself doze a little with Dean, while he makes soft sounds of contentment and amusement.

~

By the time you're on your way to a shower and Dean's off to make breakfast, he reeks of sex and satisfaction, lost in blissful ruminations. _Next time, maybe I can have her sit on my lap while we're both naked . . . I can feed her the pie . . . or can eat it off each other's bodies . . . I am **completely** pulling this off._ Dean taps his hands on the counter like it's a drum. _I am a genius, a freakin' genius._

He didn't even notice Sam at first, sitting behind the paper in the kitchen.

"So you put the sweater back in her room while she was in the range?"

Dean looks at his brother sharply, and glances out the doorway to make sure you aren't nearby. He turns back to Sam. "What are you talking about?"

Sam's voice is flat, like he's just commenting on Dean's shirt being red. "This whole thing with the sweater is bullshit. It was never really lost."

Dean freezes, busying him with making coffee, debating how much to say. "How'd you know?"

Sam snorts taking a swallow of coffee from his mug. " _A lifetime_ of watching you work cons."

Dean looks at Sam, impressed and then turns to breakfast preparations. "Fine, yeah, it was all bullshit."

Sam studies his brother thoughtfully. "What's the deal?"

Dean glances back out into the hallway.

"She's taking a shower, right? You've got at least another fifteen minutes." Sam assures him.

It's Dean's turn to study his brother. "How do _you_ know that?"

Sam looks back at his paper, attempting casualness. "I live here too."

Dean snorts.

Sam shrugs. "I try not to let out showers overlap so she has enough hot water."

Dean smirks. "How very considerate of you."

"Women need more hot water."

"Sure they do, Sam. To shave those lovely legs and wash their hair." Dean nods, trying to sound like he's defending Sam even as he laughs through his teeth.

Sam's eyes narrow. "Bite me. You weren't the only one into her when she moved in. Just because she's yours, doesn't mean I forgot the things I picked up on back then."

"Easy there, Sammy. Don't get your panties all bent out of shape. I'm not saying I _mind_. I'm just pointing out that you have a more than casual awareness of ____."

"Don't change the subject. What's your deal with the big fighting back and forth thing if it was all bullshit? You have ten minutes."

Dean gives in, pride surging forward. "Ever notice how hot she is when she's mad?"

Sam looks away long enough to give Dean his answer.

"Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about. I mean she's all kinds of hot normally, but when she gets pissed . . man, she's like a sexy warrior goddess. I'm telling you Sammy, the things she _does_ during angry sex . . ."

Sam shifts as subtly as possible in his chair, clearing his throat before Dean goes into greater detail and changing the subject. "So why put the sweater back?"

"Because she's a whole other level of hot when she's apologizing . . . When she's on her knees, begging for forgiveness . . . it's enough to drive a man mad."

"I don't know if what you're doing is madness or brilliance, but I don't want to get caught in the middle."

"It's definitely both. I can't pull this stunt too often or I won't get the whole routine because she'll start looking for the shirt thoroughly and either find it in my things or worse she won't find it and then when I put it in with her things, she'll know. And she'll figure it out. Are you going to tell her?"

"No."

Dean raises his eyebrows. "Just like that?"

Sam shakes his head ruefully. "You'll just find a new way to engineer a cycle of angry sex and apology sex."

"I appreciate your confidence." Dean grins.

Sam gets up and pours himself more coffee. "If anything, I might help _her_ mess with _you_."

Dean's grin fades. "Wait, _what_?"

When you saunter into the kitchen to get breakfast and coffee a few minutes later, still in your bathrobe and flush with hot water and afterglow, Sam moves the newspaper to his lap as he greets you.

~

After breakfast, Dean tease you a little about your bathrobe and then heads out on a food run, leaving you in the kitchen with Sam. You sigh contently, sipping your coffee and reminiscing about your apology and wakeup call with Dean.

Sam shakes his head, smiling fondly. "So I guess _you_ had a fun night."

You flush, remembering Sam seeing you in full satin and lace. "Yeah . . . thanks for the tip on the outfit."

You sit there together in what is turning into an uncomfortable silence. You can tell Sam is chewing on something he wants to say, but you don't want to push. When he finally speaks it's not _at all_ what you expect.

"Look, I don't know exactly what kind of games you and Dean like to play, but -"

"You want to play too?" You wink at Sam, joking.

"No, I-" Sam blushes. "I mean that wasn't what I was going to ask. I do enjoy catching the previews though."

You laugh easily. "Last night wasn't a game, so much as me apologizing to Dean for falsely accusing him of losing my sweater and then me losing my temper."

Sam's brow furrows realizing that you don't know Dean's conning you. "Maybe you didn't lose it, your sweater I mean."

You frown slightly. "I know; that's what I just said."

Sam's lips press into a line. "Maybe Dean still is the one to blame."

Your brow draw together as you focus on what Sam is saying. "What are you _saying_ Sam?"

Sam sips his coffee, shrugging. "Nothing, but maybe next time you lose a sweater, you should check Dean's bag too. You know how your things can get mixed together sometimes."

You're not buying it. You start reading the signals coming off Sam's body like news tweets. "Sam . . . are you telling me that Dean is doing this shit on purpose as some sort of kinky, one-sided sex game?"

Sam looks up over the top of his cup, holding your gaze soberly. "No; I'm asking if it's one-sided."

You can almost hear glass shattering inside your head as the pieces fall together. "Sonofabitch! I'm gonna fucking kill him!" You turn on Sam. "How long?"

Sam backs up in his seat, palms up in surrender. "No idea. My educated guess would be at least the last eight months, based on the previews I've been catching."

Sam watches as the fury in your eyes transforms your face. He sees that warrior goddess quality slide over you and then he sees when it shifts to someone vindictive and mischievous, someone dangerous, like Harley Quinn. "Sam . . . I may need to teach your brother a lesson."

Sam perversely can't wait to see where this goes for a variety of reasons. "Tell me if you need help."

You tap your fingers on the table. "I may need to use the dungeon."

"No problem."

"I may need your help getting him down there."

"Fine."

You cock you head, studying Sam as if seeing him clearly for the first time and putting other clues together.

_Sam has paid a suspicious amount of time tracking my sexual exploits with Dean. Eight months is **a lot** of previews. It's a small bunker/car, but still . . . and now he's very eager to help me teach **his brother** a lesson for tricking me. Sam deserves reward as fitting as Dean's punishment._

You give Sam a conspiratorial smile. "If someone were to stand on the other side of the shelves in the dungeon, they could catch a lot more than the previews as a thank you for asking the right questions . . . You know, if you're into that kind of thing."

Sam meets your eyes - seeing that you've put his behavioral cues together as well - and nods in gratitude. "Tell me what you need."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean needs to get punished for stealing your clothes and messing with your head. Nothing says crime and punishment like riding crops and spankings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first posted BDSM chapter. I set things up in a way where everyone has clear consent and aftercare and discussion of limits for both parties, but not exactly at a board room if you catch my drift. I will accept thoughtful suggestions on how to do better as needed because this is a plot line I intend to continue.

 

When Dean returns from the supply run, he goes straight to the kitchen, calling out for you a few times, but no answer. 

"Must've worn her out." He chuckles to himself.

When Dean reaches the kitchen, he sees Sam, working on his laptop at the table. "What are you working on? Have you even left this room since I went out?"

Sam types something quickly on his keyboard, presses enter, and closes his laptop. "Remember this morning when you told me that if you pulled this stunt too often, she'd figure it out?"

Dean looks away and Sam can see the guilt surfacing followed by dread. "Yeah?"

"Do you think she actually _doesn't_ know about your little con job?"

"I don't _think_ she does." Dean's expression is increasingly concerned. "You think she _knows_?"

"As it happens, Dean, I _know_ she knows." Sam studies him, standing up and walking to face his brother. "Do you remember when I told you that I might help her mess with you if she figured it out?"

Dean's face looks panicked. "Yeah."

"That's _exactly_ what I'm working on right now." Sam pulls a pouch from his pocket and tosses a pinch into Dean's face. "Bah-rah-gah-doh."

Dean drops to the floor in a deep sleep.

Sam puts the pouch back into his pocket and regards Dean with amusement.

You come up behind Sam and look down at Dean's sleep form. "You shouldn't fuck with people's feelings, Dean. Sam, let's get him into the dungeon."

~

When Dean wakes up, he's strapped to some sort of padded table, and his shoes are gone. In the dim lighting, he can see that he's in the dungeon. "Sam? ______?"

"Here, Dean."

He can hear your voice, but he can't see you yet. "_______? What's going on?"

Your voice remains just outside his vision. "You've been a very bad boy, Dean. You toyed with me for your own purposes, and now, it's _my turn_ to toy with _you_."

You move into his view, and Dean isn't sure whether to laugh in relief or wolf whistle when he sees you in a leather Wonder Woman costume that is _clearly_ inspired by Xena.

 _This is perfect on every level. It's like that fantasy I have where Wonder Woman punishes Batman for being a vigilante. Did I tell her about that?_ He sees the crop you're slapping against the palm of one hand. _I wonder what exactly I have to do to get her to use that on me?_ "Yes, very bad." Dean moans, hypnotized, his eyes trained on the end of the crop.

You start teasingly running the leather keeper over Dean's body, so he knows what you're planning. "And now, you're going to answer all my questions honestly, accept your punishment like a good boy, and if I'm satisfied, you get to come. If you'd rather we have this conversation while you're unrestrained . . ." You drag the crop over Dean's wrist bindings. "Tell me now, and I'll release you. If you're rather let this play out . . ." You drag the crop from his sternum to the growing bulge in his jeans. "Give me a safeword."

Dean considers. He can tell you left the restraints loose enough that he can get free if he wants to. "Bane. Safeword is Bane."

"Like the villain who broke Batman's back? Nice."

Dean can't stop staring at you. "Where the _hell_ did you get a Wonder Woman costume like _that_?"

"Early Halloween costume, based off the design from that new Justice League movie. It seemed to fit the theme of this afternoon: truth."

"Me likey, baby. Excellent use of Stanford Blatch's credit card. You tie me up with your Lasso of Truth?"

You run the keeper of the crop over his face, under his chin. "That's the idea."

"And the riding crop? Was that here in the dungeon?"

You step back, a little uncertainty creeping in. You start to circle the table, to cover it. "Ah, well no actually . . . that I had to borrow."

"Sam?"

"Yeah."

"That kinky fucker." Dean chuckles, then turns his head, his gaze never leaving you as you circle him. "So Sam spilled the beans, huh?"

"Some of them, yes. I expect you to fill in the gaps." Sensing you were losing control of the situation, you gave Dean's chest a sharp, corrective tap with the crop. "Enough. I have questions. You will answer them."

Dean grins, tugging playfully at his restraints. "Bring 'em on, baby."

"True or false, when I thought you lost my sweater yesterday, you had intentionally taken it?"

"Truth, Mistress."

"Was that the first time you've done something like that?"

"No, Mistress."

"How many times?"

He bites his lip in a way that makes you want to nip it. "Six, no, wait, seven times, Mistress."

"How long has this been going on?"

"About eight months, Mistress."

"Why? Why have you been fucking with my head?"

"I'd rather be fucking your face than explaining this," Dean mutters.

You grab his hair and yank it until his bright green eyes meet yours. Instead of the irritation you expect to see there, his pupils are blown almost to the edges with arousal.  _I may have completely misjudged this situation. I thought this would be a little kinky fun, where Dean tells me about his con job, apologizes, and then sexy times . . . but he's not giving in._

Dean sees the sudden awareness in your eyes. "Didn't I ever tell you, sweetheart, growing up in this life and then doing time in hell  _and_ purgatory, I have a different relationship with pain than other men?"

"Dean . . . where are you going with this?"  _I'm not actually planning to beat you or anything._

"I'm saying, I like _everything_ that's happening here, and we should do this more often."

"Um . . . so you like the BDSM thing?"

"No." He licks his lips.

"No?"

"No. I am a _huge fan_ of you and this whole dominatrix thing." Dean shifts on the table to give his growing erection more room in his jeans, displaying how much he _obviously_ loves what's happening.

"Really?"

"Really. Although . . ."

"Yes?"

He crooks his finger, beckoning you closer, and you lean down giving him a look down your armor. "Sometime, I'd like to be the one dealing out spankings."

"I think that could be arranged, if you learn to ask appropriately."

"Yes, Mistress."

You suppress a moan of pleasure. "That's better, now, answer my question."

"If I tell you, it'll ruin it, Mistress."

You slap the crop against Dean's hip. "If you _don't_ tell me, I'll ruin any orgasm you have at _my_ hands in the foreseeable future." You smack his other hip.

"That's just plain mean." Dean feels himself getting harder, seeing you getting more irritated.

You give him a firm tap to his crotch, surprised, when Dean seems to arch into it.

"Maybe, I'd rather have you slap me around." Dean waggles his eyebrows.

"I can just leave you here too."

" _Fine_." Dean relents. "I like it when you anger bang me, Mistress."

You pause, staring at him. "Why?"

"You get mean and rough and bossy, and it makes me crazy. I need it, Mistress."

You cock your head, studying him. "I see. Perhaps after you tell me everything I want to know, I'll punish you the way you want, and if I feel you've learned your lesson, I may let you come." You grab a fistful of Dean's hair and tug. "Does that sound good, Dean?"

"Yes, that sounds perfect, Mistress."

You let him go, smirking. "So you did things to deliberately anger me, so that I would dominate you."

"Yes, Mistress."

You strike in the region of his nipples. "Not a question. You _did_."

"Just agreeing, Mistress."

"Why did you then let me think you were innocent after I punished you?"

Dean looks away, somehow more embarrassed by this part.

You twist one of his nipples in your fingers. "Answer me, so we can move on to your punishment."

Dean groans into your touch. "I wanted you to _beg me_ for forgiveness, Mistress."

You release him, nodding. "You wanted me to then submit to you."

"Yes, Mistress."

You consider what Dean's told you, tapping the crop over him randomly while his breath quickens. "Dean, you have manipulated me instead of asking for what you wanted. Did you know that this," you indicate your outfit and his restraints. "Was what you craved? For me to dominate you and then for you to dominate me?"

"Not precisely . . . or maybe I didn't think you would want to."

You cup his face with one hand, pressing a shade harder than was pleasant, but otherwise ignoring his informal address. "Dean, did you think for one second that I didn't enjoy the results of your deceptions?"

Dean looks at you, searching for something he didn't see before. "Then why am I tied up and getting slapped around, Mistress?"

You lean closer, smiling. "Because it's what we _both_ wanted apparently."

Dean's head drops back, and he lets out a wanton moan. "I am the luckiest sonofabitch alive."

You give him a quick kiss, then move back before he can respond. "Yes, you _are_." Dean starts to whine in protest. "Shush." You slap his thigh with the crop, just grazing his groin. "For the first part of your punishment, you need to be naked and on your stomach. I will forgo restraints as long as you behave."

"Yes, Mistress."

You release the bindings. Dean gets up off the table, stripping off his clothes and then lying back on the table so fast you have to smile.

You put the crop aside, wanting to use your hand for now. You run your fingers lightly up his left leg from ankle to the small of his back while Dean trembles in anticipation. "Eager are we, little soldier boy?"

Dean groans so loudly it startles you and grinds himself into the table.

" _Holy fuck_." You falter, feeling you panties grow damper. Unable to rest, you rub your hand over the small of Dean's back and the curve of his ass. "Would you like me to call you _my_ soldier boy when we play these games, Dean?"

Dean thrusts into the table again. "Yes, Mistress, please."

You rub his ass. "Very well. Let's move on to your punishment." You land a hard slap on his right ass cheek.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Now, clearing the slate requires three things: punishment, atonement, and restitution. You will submit to fair punishment, then atone for your behavior, and then we'll see if you need to perform another task to prove your remorse."

"Eager to begin, Mistress."

"You say you have been deceiving me for eight months, correct?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then you shall accept eight spankings."

" _Only_ eight-"

You cut Dean off with a sharp slap to the spot where his ass met his thighs on each ass cheek. "Eight to _each_ cheek."

"Yes, Mistress." He replies, mollified.

"Count them off."

Dean groans as you bring your hand down onto his ass. "One."

"Good little soldier. Fifteen more."

"Mistress?"

"Yes?"

"Do I need to stay still?"

"No; I like watching you squirm, but you may not come."

"Yes, Mistress."

By the time you finish all sixteen, your hand hurts a little. Time to change it up.

"How are you doing, my good little solider?"

Dean's reply is breathless. "So good, Mistress. I should have come to you sooner about my needs."

You rub his ass affectionately with some aloe. "Yes, you should have, but you are taking your punishment well."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Roll over onto your back."

Dean moves onto his back, hissing a little as he gets used to putting his weight on his ass.

You frown. "You alright to continue, Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Dean, so we're clear: this is about trust both ways. You trust me not to push too hard and to listen to what you say and don't say and act accordingly. I trust you to be honest with me about your needs and limits. You lie to me _here_ , when we're doing this, and no amount of apologizing will get us to play ever again. _Am I clear?_ "

Dean looks you in the eye, lust dimming. "Yes, Mistress. I understand completely. I want more. I like the sting, Mistress."

You nod and pick the crop back up. "Then you'll _love_ this."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You're such a good soldier for me. After this, I think it's time you let me use your body a little, don't you?"

Dean's hips thrust up again, and you can see the gleam of come starting to leak again from his cock. "Yes, please. I need you to touch me, to _use_ me, please, Mistress."

"Then don't lose count. You deceived me seven times. That is seven times I was angry at you over a lie and seven times I apologized when you were in the wrong. I think you need fourteen lashes. What do you think Dean?"

"That sounds fair, Mistress."

You run your gaze over Dean's body. "If I were to ride you right now, would it be too much with what I have already done?"

Dean chuckles. "Permission to speak freely, Mistress?"

"Granted."

"You're not going to go past my pain threshold even if you only whipped my thighs and rode them after. I can take a lot more."

" _Not today_." Your voice is harder than Dean's weeping cock.

"As you command, Mistress."

You make a satisfied growl of pleasure.

"Does Mistress like the way I'm addressing her?"

You reach out and twist one of Dean's nipples between your fingers. "Very much, my good little soldier. Now, for your punishment."

You don't restrict your blows to his thighs as Dean suggested. You land some on his thighs and the rest on his chest, his nipples, and the soles of his feet. No matter what Dean claimed, you kept the pressure only hard enough to give a light sting.

When you finish, you rub more aloe into Dean's skin.

"Such a good little soldier, you didn't lose count once. How are you feeling?"

"Awesome." He arches up, sighing in contentment, cock bouncing lightly over his belly. "Mistress."

You lean forward, kissing Dean's full lips gently. "Good. I think you've endured enough punishment, this time. I think that it's time you start making it up to me."

He sits up a little, chasing your lips with his. "Does that mean I get to touch you, Mistress?"

You arch an eyebrow. "Do you think you _deserve_ to touch me?" You put the crop down and pick up another item.

Dean starts to say something cocky and then he thinks better of it. "No, Mistress, but you're very generous."

"If you don't move unless I instruct you to, you may touch me in ways that I instruct, but you need to wear this." You show Dean the new item: a blindfold.

He starts to answer in the affirmative, when a logistical issue occurs to him. "How will I be able to touch you as you instruct if I can't see you, Mistress?"

"I'll place your hands where I need them, little soldier. Don't you worry. You game?"

"Yes, Mistress. Only, could you wait to put it on me until you've used me just once? I want to see you come, Mistress. I want to know I've pleased you."

You press the blindfold into Dean's hand. "Then hold onto this until I ask for it. Remember: if you want something, you must ask, and you may not touch without permission. If you disobey, there will be consequences." There's a glint in Dean's eyes that lets you know he's already considering disobeying. "I mean it, Dean."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Hands along your sides while I get settled."

Dean obeys, looking up at you smugly, thinking he is about to get everything he wants.

You climb carefully onto Dean, kneeling over his face, one thigh on either side. "You may move your hands up and place them on my thighs. Keep them there."

Dean obeys, eyeing you up between your legs. "Well, well, Mistress. Looks like someone isn't wearing panties."

You tap your hand against Dean's jaw, hard. "Insolent. I think you need to put that mouth of yours to better use."

"Yes, Mistress." Dean moves head first between your legs, burying his face into your pussy and licking into you.

You let him go for a minute or so, enjoying his talented mouth against your folds. Then you grab his hair and pull back. "Soldier boy, I did not say what I thought a better use of your mouth would be, did I?"

Dean gulps, licking his lips nervously. "No, you did not, Mistress."

"Did I tell you that you could taste me?"

"No, Mistress."

"What were the two rules, Dean?"

"Do nothing without permission and ask for what I want, Mistress."

"Did you follow those rules?"

"No, Mistress. I'm sorry. I'll do better."

"Good. There will still be consequences for this. Soldiers need discipline to be good, don't they, Dean?"

"Yes, Mistress." Dean tries so hard to look contrite, but the prospect of more punishment excites him, and he can't fully hide that from you.

You cup Dean's face in your hand. "When you tasted me, was I wet for you, little soldier?"

"Yes, Mistress, soaked."

"Would you like to taste more?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then you may taste again. No teasing. I want to come."

Dean grins. "Yes, Mistress." He moves forward, his face nuzzling back between your thighs. His tongue laps at your clit, then rubs it with his nose while his tongue fucks into you.

You writhe over his face, rubbing against his mouth and chin, letting yourself go, chasing your release, but keeping an eye on Dean to make sure you're not smothering him.

He smirks up at you, seeing your face flush with pleasure. The picture you make, dressed like his favorite warrior woman is something straight out of his teenage wet dreams. He hears your cries get higher in pitch and loses his mind with this need to see his warrior goddess come.

Distantly, you hear a loud groan where you believe Sam is watching like you promised he could. _I wonder if Dean heard that._

Dean shifts and you let him, one hand fitting at his neck and thrusting two fingers into you while his other hand snakes up to grope your breast through the costume. Dean groans _so hard_ that instead of correcting him, you simply ride him until you come all over his face.

Dean's head drops back, his hands going back to your thighs while he licks you off his face. "You look so gorgeous when you come, Mistress."

You smile at him. "Thank you, little soldier, but you disobeyed again, _twice_."

Dean just grins even broader. "I know. I'm sorry, Mistress. I couldn't help myself."

"Did you come?"

"No, Mistress. I need _you_ to make me come."

"Do you want to accept you punishment, Dean?'

"Yes, Mistress, _please_."

"Then lie still. You will be restrained and blindfolded for you punishment. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, Mistress."

You bind him, arms and legs to the table. "You know, Dean, you got what you asked for: you asked to see me come, and you did."

"Yes, Mistress."

You secure his blindfold. "I asked you to follow two simple rules, and you violated _both_ of them, _repeatedly_."

"Did my Mistress not enjoy my disobedience?" His face is all insolence and smug satisfaction.

You slap your hand perilously close to Dean's leaking cock. "You were _disrespectful_ about it _repeatedly_. This is _not_ about whether or not I appreciate the results of your actions, Dean. This is about not appreciating _your methods_. You _still_ have not learned your lesson." You lean up to Dean's ear. "You will _not_ be coming properly until you learn."

Dean groans, bucking up, hoping for the slightest touch, but he meets only air. "No, I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm sorry."

"You will be. The lesson you need to learn is to ask for what you want and have permission before you take it. You didn't lie, so that's in your favor, but you will be punished now so that you remember this lesson." You see Dean's cock leaking further. "You think that your punishment is going to be more spankings and the like."

"Yes? Mistress?"

"But you've _enjoyed_ every part of this, Dean, and I think that's why you're still not getting the message. You're a pain slut by your own admission. But I think I have just the punishment for you. I'm going to rub your body down front and back to ease some of the tension and pain of our session away. And then I will be sleeping in my room tonight, alone, and you will think about how you could've fallen asleep inside me, fully satisfied tonight if you had just paid attention."

You can see enough of Dean's expressions to know he's sorry, but he's listening better, so he doesn't argue. He doesn't protest at not getting to come. When he finally speaks, he simply says, "Yes, Mistress."

"Good, soldier. You're learning."

You get out the aloe and rub it all over Dean's skin, letting his body relax. When his arms and upper body are loose and pliant, you move closer to his groin, every sweep of your hands moving you closer. Dean, groans loudly and you smile. "Does that feel good, little soldier?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You're very noisy, Dean."

"Do you want me to be quiet, Mistress?"

"No, I love the sounds you make."

"Thank you, Mistress."

You move your hands even closer, rubbing circles into his hard flesh, and Dean struggles not to move. "You're being so good, Dean, not moving. Do you want something?"

"I want to come, Mistress, but I don't deserve it."

"No, you don't. But I'm going to make you come just once, because, you're right, I am generous and because you asked for what you needed."

Dean lets out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mistress. You are so generous. I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't at the moment, so remember what I told you earlier about coming? Tell me when you are close."

"Yes, Mistress." Dean's brain is too depleted of blood to fully process your warning.

You wrap your hands around Dean's cock, first squeezing the base firmly, to help him regain a measure of control.

"Thank you, Mistress. I needed that."

"Next time, you will ask for it when you do."

"Yes, Mistress."

You start to run your hand up and down over his shaft, spreading his precome all along his length. You cup his balls and move your fist faster. Then you circle your finger around Dean's nipple.

Dean bows up, "I'm close."

You pinch his nipple and pump your hand over his length a couple more times, twisting your wrist at the end. Then you pull away. Dean comes about fifteen seconds later, shouting, his come spurting out so hard it paints his chest right up to his chin.

When his breathing slows, you wipe him clean and remove the blindfold. You see Dean look at you, a question there. "Dean, I told you there would be punishment. When you've learned your lesson, you may come properly. Until then . . . I will keep my word."

Dean remembers your words from earlier now about ruining his orgasm. "Yes, Mistress." Dean sighs, hornier and needier than ever.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No, Mistress."

You start to unbind him, legs first, rubbing where his restraints held him. After you release his arms and rub them as well, you get him a bottle of water and help him sit up.

"How are you doing?"

Dean grins. "That was _fucking awesome_."

You bite your lip feeling a little uncertain. "Ruined orgasm and all?"

"Yeah, baby. Ruined orgasm and all. I had that coming. Just makes me want you more anyway. I promise to have my lesson learned before next time though." He sits up on the table, drawing you close.

You melt into his arms. "See that you do."

Dean pulls back, keeping one hand loosely on your hip. "So, how'd _you_ like today's activities?" He uses his other hand to bring your hands to his mouth, so he can kiss your fingertips.

You shiver. "Yeah, I could get used to this too. Um, while we're on this train of thought, what are your feelings about voyeurism?"

"You want us to watch someone else get naughty?"

"No . . . well maybe, but that's not what I meant."

"You want someone to watch us?"

"Maybe . . . not like strangers necessarily, maybe someone we know."

"Like who? Who do we know that we could invite to . . . Castiel?"

You look away, nervously. "Um, sure."

He knows, but messing with you is too adorable. "You weren't thinking Cass, were you, baby? You naughty girl . . . You were thinking Sam, weren't you?"

"Well . . . maybe."

"I'm game if he is."

You raise your eyebrows. "Really?"

"Sure, better than some creeper from some bar staring at my girl."

Your brows relax slightly, confused. _Sure, it's just your brother._ "Oh good. That's a relief."

"Oh yeah? You mean because he's on the other side of that wall, watching us right now?"

"Ummmm . . . How do you . . . ?"

"You had me blindfolded, heightens the senses. I could _hear_ him."

"Really? He's been pretty quiet."

Dean grins, cockily. "Only takes one moan. Maybe _I_ should punish _you_ for this later . . ."

"Easy there, big boy. You're not done paying for your con job. I'd let this one slide if I were you."

"As long as there's a next time, I think that could be arranged."

"Come on, Scoundrel. Let's go watch Man of Steel and cuddle on the couch."

"Are you gonna keep the Wonder Woman outfit on?"

"Sure, but all you're getting is cuddling."

"Cuddling with Wonder Woman? Sounds like winning to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are a Dean-only reader, you've got one more chapter. If not . . . :) Carry on.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and reader enjoy some more aftercare and then Dean sees if he can get the reader to change her mind about sleeping alone. (This is the last Dean only chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/ Spoiler if you have not read previous chapters: Sam has been an incidental voyeur. It’s a small bunker and he’s got a thing for reader. If that idea sends you into a panic please read the PSA below. No one is getting their hearts broken, I assure you.  
> Dean readers please see this [http://ladyataralasse.tumblr.com/post/142183422549/psa-to-my-readers-love-you-all-re-when-good-cons](url)  
> Hell, If you want a hint of where things are going even if you’re not a Dean only reader or you want a good chuckle, read it
> 
> Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Spectaculacular-Sammy for being my sounding board and beta. Her writing is awesome and you should definitely check it out : http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy

 

You and Dean share Chinese leftovers during _Man of Steel_. He gets a real kick out of watching Wonder Woman use chop sticks. When the food's gone, he spends the rest of the movie curled beside you, with his head in your lap while you lightly massage his scalp and ears. Dean has a thing about having you massage his ears. It just makes him melt. You're surprised that he isn't test your resolve on "just cuddling" during the movie. You look down at him, smiling easily, muscles loose and supple when you rub a hand over his back. He seems genuinely content like a wolf that just gorged on caribou.

And he is content, plaint even. Dean's blood is still flooded with endorphins after your earlier playtime. He'd meant it when he said that had been mind-blowing. Your playtime had scratched deeper itches than he was even fully aware that he had. He found himself more satisfied on some level than he was after regular sex even if he hadn't fully come. He glances at you and snuggles closer. His warrior woman really had read him like a book, and he'd made sure you came hard for him. All in all, a fine day.

Still . . . he wants more. As satisfied as he is, part of Dean's mind is already wondering what he needs to do to get you to change your mind about him sleeping alone tonight.

When the credits started to roll, you are ready to get out of your costume and into something that breathes a little more and more importantly, lets _you_ breathe a little more. You rub Dean's shoulder. "Hey, soldier boy, time for me to get out of this armor."

Dean turns his face to look at you. "Any chance you'll let me help you with that?"

"Nope. I told you, you're cut off. I'm sleeping _alone_ tonight."

Dean gives you a pitiful look. "Were you serious about that too? I thought since I asked you to come and you, _ya know_ , I was off the hook."

"You still haven't learned your lesson. I know it goes against your scoundrel nature, but think of it as showing me respect. I want to know that I can trust you to respect some basic boundaries outside of playtime. I think you need to take some time alone tonight and think about what you need to do differently." You give his ass a friendly swat on the way out and leave Dean to his thoughts.

~

Dean stays there on the couch for a little while after you leave, enjoying the residual warmth and scent from where you were sitting. Then he slowly sits up, pick up his beer and finishes it, considering what you said. The more he considers it the more he gets annoyed with himself, seeing your point. He does respect you, of course he does. He wasn't trying to do anything that would be disrespectful. He just . . . _Maybe I've been doing this too long. Maybe I've been living this life for so long that lying and manipulating is just second nature to a point where I don't notice it anymore._

Dean gets up and starts clearing away cartons and empty bottles. _I mean I just got some serious naughty time with my own personal Wonder Woman, and she pretty much said I can have more if I ask for it. Like literally ask for it, not intentionally fuck up until she gets so pissed off she wants to anger bang me . . . just ask. She anticipated needs I didn't know I had. My Amazon woman is willing to scratch all kinds of dirty little itches I have and all I have to do is **ask.** I wonder if she's still showering. _Dean starts moving towards the showers without fully forming the thought.

When he gets just outside the door, he hears the water turn on. Hoping it's you and not Sam, Dean cracks open the door and slips inside. He sees you there, standing under the water, completely at ease and completely unaware he was there. Unconsciously, his hand drifts down to his jeans where he's already more than half hard. _She said I needed some time alone to think things over. She didn't say for how long._ _No, I should not do this while she's naked. I want this to end with sex tonight. Boundaries._ Deciding to wait in your room, Dean heads back out.

~

While you're in the shower, you think you hear someone come in, but you don't feel threatened and no one's there when you turn around. You go back to scrubbing off, letting your mind wander.

You enjoyed snuggling Dean after your "playtime." Sam made his exit when your scene with Dean was over, so you didn't actually get to check in with him. _Details for another day_ , you tell yourself.

You dry off, brush your teeth, and head to your room. You're looking for clean underwear to sleep in when you hear familiar footsteps pad into your room.

"You should definitely wear the lacy ones that cut high in the ass and low in the front." Dean rubs his lips over your neck.

You can't help but smile. "I guess I forgot to shut my door." You hold out a hot pink pair that was half lace and half fishnet material. "These meet with your approval?"

Dean can feel his mouth water. "Oh _hell_ yes." His hands settle on your towel-wrapped hips and pull you against him.

You smile and then turn in his arms. "It seems a waste to wear them tonight, since I said I was sleeping _alone_. What are you up to, Dean?"

He grins, turning his big green eyes on you. "I'm here to ask you to change your mind about sleeping alone."

You purse your lips, trying not to give in . . . right away. "I don't know, Dean. If I give in, how will you ever learn? I thought I was clear."

Dean nods, his nose ghosting over your face. "You were very clear, and I listened to every word. You said I needed to take some time alone to think things over, and I have spent the last hour doing exactly that."

You roll your eyes. "An hour?"

"You didn't say how long I needed to think things over. I'm a pretty quick study, especially when properly motivated. Aren't you the one who's always telling me I don't give myself enough credit for how quick I am?"

"Yes."

Dean cups your face. "I thought about what you said, and you're right, Baby. I do need to respect your boundaries."

"There's a difference between lying to keep me safe, which I don't like, by the way, and lying for your own selfish reasons." Your tone is firm, but you feel your resolve to sleep alone weakening.

"There is." Dean nods, noticing your body starting to relax. "There is a difference. You're right. I'll be better about telling you what I need next time. But maybe we can compromise a little?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about sometimes, if I pick a fight for no reason, maybe you can know that it's my way telling you I really just need a good anger bang."

You crack a smile. "Fair enough."

Dean pulls you closer, rubbing his face all over yours and breathing you in deeply, running his hands all over your towel-clad body possessively. "Please don't kick me out of your bed right now; I promise I will _never_ pretend to lose your things again."

"And?" You pant, struggling for a clear thought.

Dean rubs his nose over yours, looking pleadingly into your eyes. "And I will _ask_ for what I need most of the time."

You raise an eyebrow and realization dawns in his eyes.

He rubs his lips over yours and then he moves to nip at your jaw in-between phrases. "And right now, what I _really_ need is to come with my cock buried inside you and fall asleep with you in my arms. _Please,_ sweetheart."

You pretend to consider carefully, weighing pros and cons. "Well, you _did_ ask for what you need. I _suppose_ you've learned your lesson for now."

"Come on, Darlin'. I'll make it sooo good for you. You can tell me where you want me. I'm all yours."

You reach up and cup his face with one hand, your other hand, gripping the towel. "Dean, you will _not_ manipulate me like that anymore, you got it?"

"Yes, ma'am. And I will _ask_ you the next time I want you to tie me down and finish making me learn my lesson." He smirks at you long and slow. "You know how empty-headed I can be at times. You might need to repeat that lesson."

You give him a sharp look to make sure he's kidding. In _no space_ can you have Dean _believe_ he's actually empty-headed in your presence, but he's just playing, so you relax. "Like they say, there are no stupid questions. I'm always happy to repeat myself if you didn't catch it all the first time."

"I'll pay _real close_ attention next time. I promise." He pulls your hips even closer to his, letting you feel how his body is still craving you.

You let go of the towel. "Good. Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate you."

Dean groans. "Star Wars quotes, BDSM, and a Wonder Woman costume all in one day. Better get a cock ring or this show is gonna be over real quick."

You both chuckle and enjoy the vibrations moving between you.

"Tell me what you want, Princess." He rubs over your arms.

You quirk a wicked grin. "I don't know . . . Maybe you should spend some more time begging me . . . with your mouth."

Dean smirks. "You got it, Princess." He starts to pull at your towel, but you resist, and he pulls back, brow furrowed.

You smile slowly. "The towels stays for now. You'll have to be creative."

Dean cocks his head considering. Then he takes your hand and starts kissing your fingertips. "My Amazon woman, I am _so_ lucky to have _you_." He swirls his tongue over your palm. "You did things for me that I didn't even know that I wanted." He nibbles over your wrist. "And I'm not just talking about today. I mean since the beginning." He nibbles his way to your elbow. "And I didn't think I _could_ want you any more than I already did." His lips dance over your shoulders, then he buries his face against your neck. "Who thought getting an orgasm ruined could make me want you even more?" He closes his eyes, vibrating with need and runs his nose into your hair. "Please, Princess. Let me take off the towel. I want to taste my warrior woman again." He rubs his lips over yours. "I _need_ it."

You shudder, body and voice. "I need it too. Take it off."

His hands slide up off your hips to your ribs, releasing the towel. Dean takes a moment to let his eyes roam over your body, taking you in, and then his lips move right against yours, touching yours but not moving to kiss you. He's just enjoying the anticipation, the contact, sharing breath with you and savoring the way your body heat is bleeding through his clothes to his skin. He feels like he has a fever the way he's tuned into you right now. Everything feels more intense after your games earlier.

It's not until Dean speaks that you realize he's also holding himself in check for you. His voice is ragged, breathless. "Tell me what you want, Princess. Let me give it to you."

He can feel the second your lips start to shift against his, curving upwards, and when he feels you lick your lips and you lick his in the process, he forces himself to just accept what you gave him and not demand more . . . yet. " _Anything_ you want, Baby. You want me on my knees? So I can taste how clean you are for me?"

You nod against his lips, your mind already getting fuzzy. "Yes, Dean. I want _that_."

"Here? Or my room?"

"Dealer's choice."

"I can't wait. Here is good. I need you." Dean wraps his arms around you and starts to lower you onto your bed.

He starts to move down your body when you tug on his hair. His face is so adorable when he looks up from kissing your ribs. He looks like he's afraid you've changed your mind. You smile at him reassuringly. "You have too many clothes on."

Dean sends you a wicked grin. "I can fix that." He shifts back to his knees on your bed and pulls his shirt off slowly, showing himself off for you.

You move your one foot up and rub it over his thigh, then move your other foot up his other side to tug playfully at his waistband with your toes. "More."

"Your wish is my command, Princess." He unhooks his belt, sliding it out slowly. Then he hooks his thumbs into his jeans and boxers and teases you as he works them down over his hips, releasing his cock and shoving his pants and underwear down to his knees. He works one fist over his cock, enjoying the feel of being unconfined. Then he lifts one knee, than the other, bending backwards as he works the last of his clothes off his body.

When he's working the jeans off his second leg, back arched and cock thrusting toward you, you can't resist and lean forward to suck him into your mouth. Dean forces himself to freeze, letting his clothes fall out of his hand. He sinks down a little on his haunches, just enjoying the feel of your mouth, letting his need for you burn over his skin in waves. Every lick of your tongue, every pulsing suck of your mouth, sent waves of heat through him. It's all he could do not to push you back and bury himself inside you.

You can feel his thighs vibrating near your face, the tension in his body as he holds himself back. You pull back until the tip of his cock is just brushing your lips. "Like that, soldier boy?'

He groans, hips stuttering. "Yes, Baby, fuck yes. _So sensitive_ after this afternoon and your mouth . . .  it feels so good, Baby. Please. I don't know that I can take much more before I come down that pretty throat."

You grin up at him, batting your eyelashes. "You want me to stop?"

Dean shakes his head. "No. Never. I just . . . I need you so bad, Baby. I need to come."

You swirl your tongue around the tip. "I know, big guy, but I need you to wait a little longer. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, Princess. I can do that. I told you, anything you want."

You give his cock a parting suck and then roll onto your back, keeping your eyes locked on his. "How about you come taste how badly I want you? I believe there was talk of that."

Dean reaches down and squeezes his cock again, steeling himself as he looks you over, letting his gaze linger on all his favorite spots. "Damn, you are beautiful. It took almost everything I had not to slide into the shower with you."

You raise your eyebrows. "So someone _was_ watching me. I thought I felt someone watching me."

Dean grins unapologetically. "Yeah, that was me."

"Why didn't you join me?"

He shrugs. "I didn't think you'd want me to. I know I'm still in the doghouse, and I figured if I was gonna beg my way into your bed tonight, I should pick a better moment."

"Did you like watching me get all nice and clean?"

Dean's eyes are dark, now his voice slack. "Yeah."

"Did you touch yourself while you watched me?"

"A little." He licks his lips.

"Yeah?"

"Had to. Wanted you so damn much after this afternoon."

You crook your finger at him. "Yeah? What did you want Dean?"

He moves down on all fours, crawling forward until he's eye level with your breasts. "Wanted to bury myself inside you." He nuzzles your breasts with his chin, a little rough with stubble. "Wanted to fuck you against the shower wall until you were screaming my name."

You rub your hands through Dean's hair, encouraging him. "Did you make yourself come watching me?"

Dean looks up at you, eyes pleading. "No."

"How come?"

Dean swirls his tongue around one of your nipples, distracting you. He drops to his knees between your legs and reaches his hands under your ribs to pull you closer to his mouth while he feasts.

He comes up for air and starts tasting down your body. You're breathless when you remember your question. "Dean, _why_ didn't you make yourself come?"

Dean buries his face against your hip, his hands sliding down to your ass. He mumbles something that you can't make out.

"Come on, soldier boy, you can tell me."

He still won't meet your eyes, but he answers in a soft growl. "Didn't want to."

That _is_ surprising. "Why not?"

Dean dips his tongue between your folds and licks up. "Wouldn't have helped."

You groan, nearly losing your line of questioning, but you ask again. "Why not, Dean?"

He rubs two of his fingers along your folds, slicking them up and then slides them into you. "Wouldn't have helped, " he repeats, stubbornly. He curls the fingers inside you, sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue.

You arch off the bed and then writhe under his face. "Oh, Dean, need you inside me soon. Please."

Dean licks a path between his thrusting fingers and your clit over and over while your voice gets higher and higher. Then he curls his fingers again and rubs upwards while his mouth seals over your clit and sucks.

When you come, screaming his name, Dean feels some of his tension start to release. He licks you gently until you come down, and then he pulls his fingers out of you and starts to crawl back up your body. He stops when his lips are inches away from your mouth, and his breath is heavy with your scent. " _Because_ ," Dean finally answers, voice ragged. "All I wanted was to come _inside you_ , and nothing else was going to feel as good as being balls-deep in your soaking-wet pussy."

Your hips buck up against him, your folds rubbing against his throbbing cock while you moan. "Dean, when you say things like that, it _does_ _things_ to me."

"Yeah," he asks smugly. "Does it make you wet?"

You pull him down for a filthy kiss. When you release him, you roll your hips into him again. "It almost makes me _come_. Please, Dean, get inside me and make me scream for you again."

"I thought you'd never ask." Dean reaches down, rubbing his cock from your clit to your opening, slicking himself up and teasing you. When you buck your hips a third time, Dean chuckles and lines himself up. Then he closes his eyes and just lets himself enjoy the feel of you as your body absorbs him achingly slow. When he's fully seated, he takes a minute to just grind into you, savoring. "Oh, Baby . . . you feel so good . . . you have no idea . . . This is all I've wanted _for hours_."

You consider pointing out that it's been less than twenty-four hours since he was inside you, but you can't quite bring yourself to tease him. It's too hot that he's this desperate for you. "Yeah, soldier boy? This what you needed?"

Dean leans down to your mouth and kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours, his breath coming hard against your face, and you moan into each other's mouths. "Just about everything," he sighs. His eyes lock onto yours as he starts to move, his lips brushing over yours when his body shifts. "I'm so sorry for everything, Baby. I really am."

"I know."

He keeps moving his hips, gradually picking up the pace. "You feel _so good_."

"You too, Dean. You feel absolutely perfect. I need you _so bad_. Please."

"You got it, Baby . . . gonna make you come so hard."

"Yes, Dean. I'm gonna . . . Keep going." You pant. "You got me so wound up . . . You and that dirty mouth and perfect cock . . . I'm so close."

"Yeah, Baby? I make you crazy? Make you feel good?"

"Yes, Dean, please."

"I got ya, Baby."

He switches up the rhythm, moving hard and fast between your legs with long, grinding swivels of his hips. He feels when you clench around him and hears your mouth keening his name again. He picks up the pace, chasing his own orgasm at last. Dean's _so close_ , he can almost taste it.

You can see he's close. You can feel it in the way he's moving. There's a look in his eyes like he's waiting for something, a hunger he can't find the words for. You can see it in his eyes when he admits to himself what it is.

He leans his face into your neck, his lips by your ear. "Say it. Tell me. I need you to _tell me_."

It takes you a minute, but then it dawns on you and the realization tips you over the edge for the third time. "Come, Dean. Come for me. _Please_. I need you to come inside me."

Dean's eyes nearly roll back inside his head when he hears you say those desperately needed words. His orgasm comes out of him in a rush, his words hissing past your ears, but they sound like, "Yes, Princess, yes."

When Dean's thrusts slow, you smile up at him lazily, enjoying your aftershocks and the slack-jawed expression on his face. "You good now, soldier boy? You get _everything_ you need?"

He chuckles into your neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I did and then some." Dean smirks down at you and rolls his hips, making you clench around him with every inch of your body. "I'm an _all in_ kind of guy."

You grin, rolling up into him. "I do love when you're _all in_."

He slumps down over you and rolls to your side, wrestling the covers over you both. Then he pulls you against him, his arms wrapping around you. "How did I get so damn lucky with you?"

"You've got a good heart, Dean." You snicker. "And an amazing dick."

He nuzzles your neck. "It doesn't hurt that _your_ heart's so forgiving."

"That definitely helps your case."

Dean rubs your hip. "And you've got a pussy I could happily spend the rest of my days buried inside."

"No doubt." You snuggle closer. "Love ya, Scoundrel."

"You too, Princess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a sequel posting after this arc finishes up when Sam joins in gradually. If you’re not a fan, you can stop reading after this arc ends. Dean only readers may want to exit after this chapter reassured that Dean will not be left hurt or alone. If you read the tags, you will understand why. If you do not read the tags . . . Sorry. I tried. Otherwise, hang tight. I have so much more fun planned. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning/ Spoiler: Sam is an incidental voyeur. It’s a small bunker and he’s got a thing for reader. If that idea sends you into a panic please read the PSA below. No one is getting their hearts broken, I assure you.  
> Dean readers please see this [http://ladyataralasse.tumblr.com/post/142183422549/psa-to-my-readers-love-you-all-re-when-good-cons](url)  
> Hell, If you want a hint of where things are going even if you’re not a Dean only reader or you want a good chuckle, read it


End file.
